Dear book weight,
I dreamt of you As my sweet fate Dressed all on burgundy Bragged of those elegant seams Those that made you candy And as foolish as it seems A great desire awoke in me I had no money to spare Maybe, Only if I miss my bread So in a summer night I swapped three meals for your delight "It is not even windy," My mother said, "why would you want that instead?" "I dream of windy nights," I replied "one day my pages will try to fly" What if my thoughts have no ground? Who will plant True words in my mouth? Only something heavy enough Something that could make me tough You! My elegant book weight The things I'd do for you Throw my phone out the gate 'cause my purse can hold a few Off it goes On the rue Now come on Inside my purse ~ * ~ Dear book weight, It's January and its Winds They've come to haunt me But they don't know I am ready No longer a boat without anchor You hold me down on earth No longer in need of my rancor to daunt me from my death
January 25th, 2019
in trust for maddow's a bust that make her square with her offense that snare deeds that evoke innuendos with republicans that newly file returns these later dates and oft-counter claims inside.
— The End —